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<title>All Dogs Go To Valhalla by Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675341">All Dogs Go To Valhalla</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/Paraprosdokia'>Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov Friendship, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, The one where they’re dog people, i guess?, i have no idea how to tag this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:22:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/Paraprosdokia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A short and sweet furry au.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton/Thor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All Dogs Go To Valhalla</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh my god I wrote something under a thousand words. I can hardly believe it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What’s the matter, Barton. Got fleas?”</p><p>“I do not have fleas!” Clint throws a paper clip at Tony’s head, pinging the Border Collie in the ear, “I still haven’t been able to get all of that space goop out of my fur.”</p><p>Thor throws back his head and laughs, and that would be enough, that right there, to make Clint want to sit up and beg for him, but no, the laugh shows off his canines, sharper, longer than a human’s, and while it’s not as if he ever tries to hide it, in that moment he is all wolf. </p><p>God, Clint is the worst kind of cliche. </p><p>Though really, what can anyone really expect out of a mutt like him?</p><p>It’s not like he doesn’t have any idea at all about his pedigree; mom was a pureblood Golden with papers going back to the Mayflower, back to the old Russian Trackers.</p><p>Dad hadn’t ever been anything but mean. </p><p>Steve laughs with him, the Pitt’s teeth are nearly as long as Thor’s, but they do nothing for Clint. </p><p>Sure, Cap is a peak human specimen, but Thor is a literal <em> god</em>.</p><p>Also, Cap’s never looked at him the way Thor sometimes does.</p><p>It’s not exactly like he’s prey, but it’s not <em> not </em>that, either. </p><p>Tasha gives him a knowing grin and he curls his lip at her but it just makes her laugh, because she’s his best friend and also she sucks. </p><p>She’s something that looks like a fox and definitely isn’t a Pomeranian and if you suggest it, well, guess you didn’t like those fingers very much, did you, buddy? </p><p>She twitches her ear towards him and glances over at Thor, silently telling him to go for it, but Clint knows better and flicks his ears back, fast enough that no one else notices, and it’s enough for her to back off, a sympathetic glint in her eye and he loves her for it. </p><p>Steve finishes telling a story about the Howling Commandos and that leads into Thor telling one about fishing of all things. </p><p>He could be reading the phone book and Clint would still hang on every word. </p><p>Ugh. Why does he do this to himself? Thor is a teammate, a friend; part of this motley pack they’ve become over the years.</p><p>Thor probably looks at everyone that way sometimes; and sure, Clint watches him like a hawk, so he should have seen it by now, but it probably just happens when he’s out of the room. </p><p>All at once it’s too much. He can’t be here, not with Thor and his golden laugh and his sharp teeth and his hungry looks.</p><p>“Sorry, all; I’m beat. I’m going to head to bed.”</p><p>“I, too, hear slumber’s call,” Thor says, even though his story is only half finished. He stretches and Clint’s brain goes numb and he just stands there like the dummy he is instead of making a quick escape to the stairs. </p><p>Great. Now he has to share the elevator with Thor or it will be awkward. </p><p>More awkward. </p><p>“We are… friends, are we not, Clinton?”</p><p>Tasha had thought it was hilarious to tell everyone his full name, and while it was retaliation for one of his pranks, her fur was only blue for a day, he has to live with this forever. </p><p>Thor is the only one he doesn’t growl at for using it though; maybe it’s because he’s always so earnest when he does. </p><p>“Of course,” Clint answers, trying to sound casual and probably missing by a mile.</p><p>“I would ask for your advice,” Thor clears his throat and almost sounds nervous, “Regarding Midgardian courtship rituals.”</p><p>Clint smiles, even as his stomach sinks. “Okay; shoot,” he says, leaving off the silent ‘me’.</p><p>“On Asgard, when one wishes to show romantic interest in another, it is customary to bring them a fresh kill; but from what I have seen of Midgard, that might be frowned upon. Also, I have been unable to find a suitable hunting ground.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” Clint rubs the back of his neck; that shouldn’t be hot, why is that hot? “Most people would probably find that a little… barbaric.”</p><p>“How would you indicate your interest to your intended?”</p><p>“You know, I’m probably the worst guy to ask. I’m terrible at dating. I usually just fall into bed with someone and try to sneak out before they wake up and kick me out.”</p><p>Thor’s brow crinkles in concern, “Who would be so foolish as to kick <em> you </em> out of their bed?”</p><p>“Um. What?” </p><p>“Mayhaps I am not making myself clear,” Thor says, and pushes Clint up against the wall; he’s the only one taller than Clint, only by an inch or too but it makes Clint feel almost dainty by comparison and he loves it far more than he should, “How would <em> I </em> indicate that I would like <em> you </em> to be my intended?”</p><p>“Um,” Clint squeaks, “That— uh, this… this works,” oh <em> God </em>does it work; he tilts his head back, baring his throat.</p><p>“I swear to you now, I shall never kick you out of our bed.”</p><p>The phrase ‘<em>our bed</em>’ goes straight to Clint’s… heart as Thor nuzzles his neck, and then his heart drops when Thor rears back, his nose wrinkled and a look of disgust on his face.</p><p>Before Clint can say anything, Thor draws a finger across Clint’s neck and looks at the offending glob of purple, “But perhaps first we might bathe together?”</p><p>Clint laughs, his heart soaring again, “I’d like that, Thor. I’d like that more than anything.”</p>
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